


Islands in the Dark

by empires



Series: Project Fox Hunt [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: On their search for information concerning the Light and the ongoing Cademus projects, Nightwing and Aqualad discover a startling secret.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salvadore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/gifts).



> written as a very protracted birthday fic for the fabulous k in the heady days of yore when yj season 3 was a hazy pipe dream in the mad eyes of the faithful. so it's not canon. kind of wish it was though.

**Cademus Facility**  
**Shaker’s Rest**  
**10:52 PM**

 

The blue flare of the computer screen highlights a sudden tension in Nightwing’s jaw. He frowns at the scrolling data, lips strained. Nightwing has found something, something neither he nor Kaldur will like.

Kaldur edges back hoping to see what Nightwing does, but the stands of code seem endless and indecipherable. “What is it?”

“They call it Project Fox Hunt.” Nightwing responds, voice heavy. “The information here is vague. ‘If properly honed, the asset will help spread the light,’ you know how it goes.”

“I do,” he agrees, solemnly. “They are quite taken with the symbolism.”

“And the irony found in the idea that they can spread darkness under the promise of peace. But that’s not what has me worried.” Nightwing taps a strand of text. At his touch, the screen enlarges to display the building’s blueprints. “Whoever or whatever Project Fox Hunt may be is stored down here.”

Kaldur tracks the glowing light down to subbasement 27, which is three floors above the where this facility’s hidden laboratories end. Kaldur understands the significance. “Not Project Kr then.”

Over the last year, both Kaldur and Nightwing have infiltrated four Cademus operations raiding them for information regarding the Light and their activities. They searched for answers, and they searched for hints of the coming storm.

Dick shakes his head. “No. I don’t think this Cademus facility got very far in the genomorph program before it was shut down. But in all the other facilities we’ve seen, these floors acted as storage.”

Their gazes met, such as it were, Nightwing’s mask has never revealed such a thing, yet Kaldur can feel the weight of Nightwing’s regard as easily as his anxiety.

“Roy,” they say in unison.

Nightwing’s fingers dance between the halopad at his wrist and the Cademus computer. “I’ve pulled all data associated with Fox Hunt.” Nightwing announces as both screens wink out. “Let’s go.”

Having been in the business for so long it’s inaccurate to call their next moments rushed, but a shift takes place. Their near silence becomes focused; their movements sharper.

As Kaldur sprints owards the elevator, a wave of sameness washed over him stripping years away from his shoulders. Laughter sounds in the dark, distant, fading, and Kaldur speeds after that remembrance, their moment wondering if Nightwing has heard it too, or is it Kaldur alone who will always give chase? Is it Kaldur alone who will willingly follow those who only look forward?

These thoughts will keep for another time.

Together, Kaldur and Dick creep along the shadow-filled corridors and travel down the elevator shaft. The floor numbers race past in flicker flashes until they slow to a stop. They’ve reached the storage area locked behind faintly palpitating vessels and abandoned security protocols.

The large warehouse space shares features similar to the other Cademus. Row upon row of shelving units which store what had once been unimaginable. The far wall houses a stack of insect like genomorphs curled in their glass cages emitting the bewildering light. The center shelving units hold what they’re here for, now at least.

“This way,” Nightwing says, turning down a dark row.

The shelves press in from all sides, even above with its heavy canisters looming openly around them. Nightwing reaches a small crossroads in the center. He checks the blueprints and the project reports. “Should be on this row,” he hisses sweeping down the west branch. Kaldur follows.

“The identification number?”

“D402-27, Alpha 1.” Nightwing rattles the number off without hesitation.

Kaldur walks among the cryo-chambers, eyes swiftly moving over each designation code. Several of the chambers are empty. Others are filled with the attenuated limbs of the geneomorphs, aberrations, and strange specimens Kaldur has never seen. A few feet down, Kaldur finds the oddity on the row, the thing that does not belong. In a steel tube, behind a film of ice obscuring the glass enclosure is the silhouette of a man.

“Nightwing,” he calls sharply. A waver of air and the hero stands beside him.

“Good eye, Aqualad,” Nightwing says reaching for the controls. “It’s going to be okay, Speedy. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Cademus employs a rapid de-cryogenation process. Within seconds the chamber hums to life and Nightwing monitors the vital standings flashing down towards stabilization. The frost recedes from the glass slowly, too slowly for even Kaldur’s patience, but it is quickly done. The locks release with a hiss of air and he glass slides open to reveal a young man, tall, lean with oddly pronounced scar along his chest and abdomen—signs of a vigilante lifestyle. But he is not Roy, nor one of his clones.

Nightwing is the one to give him a name. The breath he draws is sharp, unsteady, and he takes a step forward hesitantly, a word Kaldur has never associated with him even as the young hero Robin. Then Nightwing’s whispers, “Jason.” Hope and horror war within his voice, and Nightwing stares at the slack face and the dark hair curling over the forehead of Project Fox Hunt as if he cannot comprehend this Jason being here hidden, falling toward him.

Kaldur darts forward to catch the tilting body. While solidly built, this Jason feels strangely frail, too light and too cold.

An alarm blares to life overhead.

“Get him out of here,” Nightwing says. The cracks in his façade are immediately hidden by the mantle of leadership.

Kaldur sweeps the loose body into his arms. “What about you?”

Nightwing’s haloscreen shimmers to life and he begins to run. “I have to find an origination point to load this virus. We must erase everything regarding Fox Hunt. Fox Hunt.” Nightwing laughs bitterly. “They already know too much. I have to shut them down.”

An explosion sounds behind them rocking the shelves.

Nightwing swings towards the end of the row where shadows build, tall strange things. “Go,” he commands before leaping high.

Kaldur hunches forward to protect his charge from the heat and flames that rock the building at every turn of their escape. He runs knowing Nightwing will be soon behind them.

 

* * *

 

It is neither the first or second time Aqualad and Nightwing has seen an intel gathering operation turn into a rescue mission, but somehow the stakes have never felt so high, the next step so outlandishly far from Kaldur’s gasp.

Even Nightwing’s actions seem strangely unfitting, choosing to stalk the shadows and avoid the nearest zeta tube. He immediately closes down Kaldur’s suggestion to call in the League or their team. Stranger still, he transports them to Bludhaven, rather than Gotham City where his family of heroes reside. They travel underground from there surfacing some miles away in the fortified parking garage of some great super complex. Kaldur does not question Nightwing’s familiarity of the building, the way he easily bypasses the security feeds and pronounces each step of their ascension clear. Kaldur simply follows, carrying his burden without question or complaint. There will be time.

They exit the stairwell to a lush hallway. Stone floors, a modern rug and fixtures. Nightwing removes his glove and presses his thumb against a door lock some steps away. A green light flashes granting them entry. Nightwing pushes the door open to a—Kaldur steps inside, brows raising—a rather extravagant apartment. Nightwing pushes through the living space and into a wide hallway. “Bring him here,” Nightwing calls and again, Kaldur follows.

“Put him on the bed. Please.” Nightwing drops his gloves on the sleek dresser and begins removing his mask, technology until only Dick remains.

At times, Kaldur thinks he has only ever known Dick. His intelligence, his camaraderie, his trust, it has never wavered, always been the same steady thing since revealing his identity to the core team. Robin has always been Dick and the reverse is true. Nightwing, however, is only mostly Dick. Nightwing guards something away from them all. Kaldur remembers the day it happened, when a veil seemed to surround not only Nightwing, but Batman and Batgirl too. But now, something’s cracked, something’s falling free, and Dick has bleed through tonight.

Together, he and Dick settle Jason beneath the covers and Dick pulls a small case from behind the night stand. Inside are tools scene for collecting evidence; tweezers, sealed bags, culture dishes, swabs. Dick begins to collect. He works methodically but also tenderly. When he’s done, Dick places a nutrient patch on the unconscious man.

Against the crisp pillows Jason merely looks asleep. And somehow, familiar. Dick’s gaze cannot leave his face for more than a few seconds at a time willing to believe in this unexpected miracle before he has proof.

“Who is he?” Kaldur asks wondering who it was that commands Dick’s attention so easily, so fully.

Dark eyes fly over to meet his, their cloudless depths shining with unshed tears. “Funny. That’s the first thing I ever said about him too. He hated it when you talked like he wasn’t there.” Dick’s strained features crack leaving trace amusements. But it does not matter. His wry humor often brought comfort to people around him. This does not sound comforting.

Deflection. Kaldur can’t even remember the last time Dick avoided his questions so obviously.

Dick smooths back the dark hair. “You just can’t stand being ignored, can you, Jay?”

“Dick.” Kaldur says his name like he hasn’t in so long, a hidden worry, a note of fear. Robin. “Who is Jason?”

“I can’t say.” Dick whispers.

Kaldur’s steps closer, reaching to grasp at Dick’s shoulder. He offers reassurance in the touch perhaps, contact to help erase the lost look on his face. Dick looks up to him blinking until he sees Kaldur is with him. “I am here with you. Have I done something to lose your trust, friend?”

“No. Kal, no. You know it’s not.” Dick sighs. “It’s not only my secret. It’s family business.”

“This much is obvious,” he replies. “But his presence distresses you deeply and you refuse to tell me why.”

“Because he’s been. All this time he’s been missing, locked up in some Cademus research base. Alone. God, he’s been alone for who knows how long and we’ve been running around thinking he’s—“

“Bruce.” The word barely passes from the boy’s lips, but it sounds as loudly as a crack on a frozen pond. Dick is already crouched at the bedside before the sound dies. His hand ghosts along the perimeter of the pale body as if uncertain. Finally, Dick settles for gripping this Jason’s hand gently.

“I’m here, Jason,” he whispers. “Can you hear me?”

There’s a flicker of something across Jason’s face giving life to his still features. Then his dry lips part and a name stutters free. “Dick?”

Dick’s eyes close and his expression. Kaldur has never seen such naked pain on his face. “Yeah. God. Yeah, it’s me. I’m here, Jay. You’re safe. You’re safe now. Can you open your eyes?”

“C-c-cold.” Jason chatters, a deep tremor racking through him. His skin begins to pimple and his lips deepen in color. Yet the temperature is quite warm. Kaldur, with his Atlantean physiology, can feel it keenly.

Dick leaps to his feet, unzipping his costume. Undressed, he climbs into the bed and wraps Jason in his arms. “Help me.”

Kaldur removes his combat vest and enters from the other side. He is unsure that his low body temperature will be of any assistance, but the thought disappears once he touches this Jason’s side and the shaking ceases. Still, Kaldur can hear the click of his teeth rattling together. The phantom cold is deeply felt. He begins to rub the skin gently hoping to impart warmth.

“Thank you. We’ve got you, Jay. You’re not alone,” says Dick, curling to fit against Jason’s back. A hand, Dick’s slips over where Kaldur’s strokes Jason’s skin, arresting the motion, holding tightly.

Kaldur meets Dick’s eyes. “You are with friends,” he says, quietly. “You are safe now, Jason.”


	2. Chapter 2

The light always blinds. It’s always on and searing through his eyelids, his breaths, and his thoughts, and Jason doesn’t know why it started or why it never ends. And then it does, blessedly cool dark pouring over him like a wave. He shakes the dizzying feeling from his head. He opens his eyes. 

_He opens his eyes._

When Jason opened his eyes, he found himself toe-to-toe with Nightwing. Never sure how he always ended up in these moments, Jason shrugged off the awe being this close to his hero inspired and reached for the anger instead. It was easy when said hero was such a dick.

“You’re coming with me.” Dick growled the words before grabbing Jason by the arm. The Nomex weave felt cool, gripped like rubber, but Jason could imagine the heat from Dick’s palm and it burned all the way up to his cheeks.

“You can’t just tell me what to do.” Jason pressed his weight into his heels resisting the gentle tug. “B, this loser is trying to kidnap me!”

Across the cave, Bruce leaned back from the microscope with a sigh. He swiveled in his chair in time to witness the lazy slap Jason makes at Nightwing’s head. “Have him back by Sunday,” he said, betraying Jason with every syllable.

“Come on, Bruce!” Jason shouted, horrified. “You can’t expect me to hang out with this loser all weekend.”

“It’ll be good for you.”

Jason peeks around the cave searching for whoever Bruce is referring to because it sure as hell ain’t him. “Good for whom?”

“Good for you. As both Robin and Jason Todd,” Bruce said, twisting the knife he just shoved in Jason’s back so hard Jason groaned.

“I don’t see how,” Jason said.

“Which is exactly why you’re coming with me,” Dick said. Jason glared at him wondering how Dick didn’t understand how lucky he was. That smug grin on his face would be kissing the floor if Jason stopped holding back.

“Assessing your friends and allies is important. If you take the time to learn their strengths and limitations, and how you can forward your own abilities,” said Bruce, displaying an obliviousness to the real issue.

“They’re not my friends. They’re his friends.” Jason spat finally freeing himself from Dick’s grip only to have a strong arm settle over his shoulders like a wooden yoke. Dick smiles down on Jason.

“What Batman means is that you can use some practice working with the team. If you’re interested in joining one day.”

Those words brought Jason’s plan to trap Dick in a wrist lock to a screeching halt. His eyes darted between Dick and Bruce searching for signs of a deception. Life had never been kind to Jason, and he can’t help but look for the hammer to drop when good things happen, the big stick that follows the carrot. There was nothing suspicious about Bruce’s calm gaze, the hint of an encouraging smile on his thin lips. Dick looked like he was about to bust waiting for Jason’s reaction, like he knew he’d offered Jason everything he’d been dreaming about since reading the carefully selected mission files on the Young Justice team.

Jason crossed his arms chin raising a bit. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. They’ve probably been missing a reliable Robin.”

“That’s the spirit. Come on, Jay.” Dick shoved him towards the cave’s darkened recesses where the zeta tube lived.

“Noon. Sunday. Stay for brunch.” Bruce called. 

A pregnant paused filled the air, and both Jason and Dick glanced back waiting for further instructions. Bruce had turned back to his inspection dismissing them from mind and cave. Their eyes met, and Dick winked, a quick, conspiratorial thing that means nothing but caused a ripple to shake down Jason’s body like a stone in a pond. It only happened because Nightwing’s opened lenses revealed his bright blue pupils and his long lashes, the smile he almost always carried there. Jason closed his fingers into a fist to placate the butterflies jittering around. This wasn’t a special moment. This wasn’t just for him. This little jaunt was about the Titans.

“Alright,” he muttered, still fighting hard against that grin. “Let’s get this over with.”

The zeta tube opened, and Dick entered disappearing in a smooth hum of energy. Jason followed. His feet echoed in the small chamber and the lights inside grow brighter. They grow brighter. 

_The light always blinds_

It all went wrong when Jason stepped inside. The hum washed over him, but instead of a smooth translation of his atoms across a great distance, Jason jerked. His body collapsed back as if pinned to a hard surface. He struggled against the clamps on his wrists, his ankles and thighs, but could not free himself. All he saw was the light, bright and terrible, growing closer and closer. A voice whispered in his ear asking for answers, no, demanding secrets he must keep. The light grew hot and he could feel sweat dripping over his skin. He opened his eyes.

_He opens his eyes_

When Jason blinked, he found himself striding down the corridors of Mount Justice. He glanced around suspicious. The hallways seemed a little too wide, the roof tilting at odd angles. He spun on his heel taking in the empty spaces.

“Where is everyone?” 

“You really don’t listen to me,” Dick says, dismayed. “Alpha team is returning from an escort mission. Black Canary, Zatanna, and Artemis are training in Star City this afternoon, but their arrival should coincide with Alpha team. I figured I’d bring you in early and give you a tour.”

“Right,” Jason said. It was all coming back to him. The arrival, his shock at hearing his codename, Robin, announced smoothly over the air. He remembered walking through the kitchen. He remembered appreciating the training room, including the soured sweat tickling his nose. He just couldn’t remember how he got there, just like he wasn’t sure how he and Dick wound up fighting back at the cave.

When they reached the end of the hall, Dick presses his palm against the scanner. The door opened, and a tall young man rose from his seat in front of a slick monitoring system. Dick stopped short, a soft hum of pleasure thrumming in his throat. 

“Kaldur,” he said and across the room, Aqualad smiled.

Dick rocked to his toes for a second and his hands rose only to rest on the tilted holsters on his utility belt. His smile transformed into something almost painfully bright. Jason crossed his arms all at once understanding what a guy needed to make Dick take interest. He had to be tall and long with a chiseled physique apparently. Be arresting like the Gotham City horizon in dawn’s light. Have a quiet smile that sweeps over inviting and kind as a warm wave. Be attentive and intense with gray eyes that seem to say you and only you _matter_ in this moment

“I was wondering if you had forgotten the time, old friend.”

“Nah. Just had a little trouble convincing this one to join us for the weekend.” Dick knocked Jason forward with his elbow. “Aqualad, I’d like you to meet Robin, the newest addition to our crime-fighting family and a potential member for our team.”

Be so patient it clings to you like a cape and not even twitch when someone stares at you like an idiot before returning the handshake.

“Hello, Robin. It is an honor to meet you,” Kaldur said, staring in such a way that Jason knew he was just as excited to meet him and that Jason could say anything, anything at all and Kaldur would do more than hear him, Kaldur would listen too. Kaldur’s hand covered Jason’s and even through the gauntlet, he felt strength there, heat, and privately wondered why he’d thought Atlanteans would be cold.

Jason cleared his throat. “Nightwing sprung the whole thing on me, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. The team.”

“He speaks highly of you as well,” Kaldur said. He glanced up when Nightwing stepped closer and placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder then returned his warm gaze. “So, I know you will find your place, Robin. With us and in the world.”

Be perfect.

There’s got to be a reason why he’s dreaming about Kaldur’ham. It had to be a dream. The handshake kept going and going with Jason, Kaldur, and Dick exchanging glances in this kaleidoscope of feeling that left Jason dizzy inside. He had to wake up, because this was embarrassing.

He has to wake up.

“Jason?” Kaldur says against his ear and sound echoes against his cheek.

“Jason.”

Jason groans. “So loud.” Something touches his cheek, clammy, soft. A hand. Jason presses against it with a sigh.

“Jay. Jay, please,” a gentle voice calls, “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Jason squirmed closer to the source. It’s so familiar. Confident, shining, if a little soft. “Dick?”

Laughter, a wet choking kind. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” Dick pushes the hair from his brow. “Come on, Jay. Look at me.”

It hurts to think about opening his eyes let alone moving them, but Jason tries. His eyelids twitch and drag and it’s almost as if he’s remembering how to move them at all. They flutter a crack letting in piercing white and halos and the shape of Dick’s lips before he closes them again with a hiss. 

“The light. It’s so bright. Always so bright. Why won’t they shut it off?” He nudges forward until his head rests on something firm, bones and skin. “Should’ve said no.”

“I’m sorry, Jay. Here.” 

A click and some of the heat is replaced by darkness. That’s better. He relaxes somewhat, but not all the tension will leave his body, not once he’s able to catalog more things, like the sheets curled high around his shoulders, the clean, stale scent on the pillows, two hands around his waist, one hand on his cheek, the other in his hair. None of which are Jason’s. He feels an idea forming, a shuttering pop of a bulb in his mind illuminating all the dark holes he’s afraid to probe.

“Why didn’t you?” Dick asks.

“Can never say no to you, can I?”

Dick makes another soft noise, a strangled whine that would be sad if he didn’t sound so happy. His hand slips over Jason’s eyes to form a curved cage. “Can you try again now?” he asks. “Open your eyes for me.”

The hands on his waist shift and Jason feels safe with them there, steadied. It doesn’t take as long this time. His body responds faster and his lashes blink against long fingers that slowly come into focus. They part and between the shadows, Jason finds Dick’s eyes soft and shining at him. At him and no one else.

“Is this better?” Dick whispers. He removes his hand when Jason nods, but it doesn’t go far. Dick simply traces his cheeks then slides up to tug at the hair above Jason’s left eye. Dick smiles at him in a way Jason’s never seen before. It’s soft, tender even like he’s happy to see him. “Hi Jason.”

“Hey Dickie. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Jason doesn’t know why Dick’s lips tremble like this. He shrugs backwards aware of the body behind him. “I heard Kaldur.”

“I am here. Jason.” Kaldur says his name like it’s a gift and that sends a shiver down Jason’s spine. His dreams make a hell of a lot more sense now.

Something amazing must have happened last night before all the… fun. Jason shifts and Kaldur helps him scoot up a bit on the pillows. Dick’s hand falls from his hair to support his shoulder. The long fingers send chills through him, and Jason shivers. It’s so cold. Dick and Kaldur are warm on either side of him, warm and shirtless and so very close.

“Fuck,” Jason drawls the word out loud and long wondering when he got to be so _lucky_. His attention swings between Dick’s electric eyes and Kaldur’s indivisible gaze feeling profoundly confused and lucky. “You shoulda stopped me at the first drink, Dickie because I can’t remember anything from last night.” 

The previous night is a dark expanse. He pokes at it, and a sharp sudden pain races through him. A dull pounding builds behind his eyes. Message received as far as he’s concerned. Stick with the now. He scrubs a hand through his hair wincing. He really wants to know what happened last night.

Dick’s eyes leave him for a moment, and Jason doesn’t mind. There’re miles of skin bared in front of him and it’s like seeing it all for the first time. He slides his fingers between Kaldur’s and they warm almost immediately. Kaldur squeezes him. Kaldur squeezes him. If Jason wasn’t so tired and sore, he’d roll over and show him how good that makes him feel. He feels Dick’s attention again and lifts his head up to meet it.

There’s a change in Dick’s expression, and Jason really doesn’t want to see it right now. He doesn’t want to hear the responsibility and the apologies.

“Jason. We need to talk about the last thing you remember.”

“Yeah, sure, uh huh,” Jason says licking his lips. “Does my breath stink?”

Dick pauses mid-thought. His long lashes flutter like wings like he’s lost his track of every train running through his neatly scheduled mental table, which is ridiculous. Jason’s never had that kind of effect on Dick. He wishes he can remember exactly what he said to Dick to get permission to join them in bed last night.

“What? No. No, it doesn’t actually,” Dick says, thrown of balance, like he only sometimes reveals to Jason, who basks in it even now when he’s hung over and wretched and unable to remember the best night of his life. “It’s kind of funny how—” Jason cuts him with a soft kiss. It’s a tiny thing, a brief brush and then a sly flick of his tongue to try and taste Dick’s lips. He can’t quite remember the feel and texture of their first kiss or even their second, but he plans on remember every single one from this moment on. Dick’s fingers rise to his shoulder and squeezes before pulling away with a rough moan. 

“Jason, wait,” Dick rasps. “Wait. We need to talk.”

“I don’t regret it,” Jason says. “Whatever it is that happened between us, I don’t regret it.” He drags his fingers down Dick’s cheek before shifting towards Kaldur. “And I’m not trying to get between you two. I mean, I hope I did last night because I have a list, right? But probably not, huh, because I’m not that kind of sor—ah. Sorry, sorry. You wanted to talk.”

Dick huffs quietly, and Kaldur finally brings his eyebrows back down to that calm, collected look. It’s like one second, he can tell exactly what Kaldur’s thinking and then the next moment, a blank slate. It shouldn’t be hot, but the look never fails to make Jason tighten and squirm inside. 

“Kaldur and I… Jason. We really need to talk, so focus. Please.” Dick is almost pleading with him, and his cheeks are red. It’s a really good look for him. “What is the last thing you—”

“Before you kick me out the bed, can I get a last kiss, Kaldur?” It’s the most selfish thing Jason’s ever asked, but damn if he doesn’t want a taste that he can remember. And he learns something new about Atlanteans. Their gills flex and darken when they’re flustered. Huh, he thinks, giving Kaldur a crooked grin, and Kaldur’s eyes grow round.

“That smile. I know it,” Kaldur murmurs. “Robin.”

“Robin?” Jason frowns at how the word echoes through him. His vision begins to swirl, and the pounding in his skull starts to make itself known. “Robin. No. I’m. Not. Anymore.”

“Jason? Jay. Are you alright?” 

"This is your Robin," Kaldur whispers. "Your little wing."

The hand touching his skin is burning hot like a brand. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. The word Robin, he remembers suddenly why it's wrong. He shrugs from beneath Dick's touch.

“I can’t. Dick. Robin. I’m not Robin anymore.” Jason’s face twists in pain. “I’ve been _replaced_.”


End file.
